


Could

by panisdead



Category: Stargate Atlantis
Genre: Comment Fic, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2011-02-19
Updated: 2011-02-19
Packaged: 2017-10-15 18:50:37
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,300
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/163828
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/panisdead/pseuds/panisdead
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>A little "Lost Boys"-era enzyme porn.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Could

**Author's Note:**

> Originally written as comment fic for Chopchica in appreciation for her snippet [here](http://chopchica.livejournal.com/27087.html).

"I thought I told you to hurry up." Rodney shifted impatiently, rubbing his shoulders against the rock wall with small hitching movements. John could feel heat rolling off him in waves, the way Rodney's sides were damp and clammy with sweat in the cold, dank air of the cave. His eyes were wide in the dark, and John could see flashes of white as Rodney tracked his movements, scenting the air like an animal. It was more than a little creepy, but if catalogueing shifts in the air currents kept even a tiny corner of Rodney's overheated brain occupied, that was one corner John didn't have to worry about.

"And I thought I told you to keep your voice down." John breathed in deeply, his nerves jangling. Rodney smelled of moss and damp, with an added tinge of bitterness from the enzyme breaking down in his body, sweating out through his skin. "I'd rather keep Ford out of this, if it's all the same to you."

Rodney shifted again, one hand clenching and twisting in the fabric of his pants. "What, you don't think we could take him? Two to one, even?" His voice was clipped, edged with restless, violent energy. "I know it's not normally like me to propose physical violence, but I really think with the addition of the enzyme in my system and the element of surprise, we could, could, you know, 'get the drop' on him with just the smallest application of strategy, just the smallest--did you know I used to box in college? I mean, I was terrible, but I bet maybe _now_ \--"

"Rodney, shut up. We couldn't take him."

Rodney dropped his chin to his chest and shuddered. When he raised his head, his eyes were narrow. "I bet I could take _you_."

John carefully didn't freeze, made himself stay loose and relaxed so as not to spook Rodney, even as the knot of tension that had been aching between his shoulderblades ever since they landed on this godforsaken planet racheted up to a burn. It was possible Rodney could overpower him--unlikely, but possible. There was strength in those broad shoulders, in the thick, heavy muscles of his thighs. One wrong move in the cramped quarters of the sleeping alcove and John could find himself with a cracked skull. Would Rodney stop then, appalled, or would the tang of blood drive him further over the edge? Here in the dark, with Rodney reeking of sweat and the thick, humid scent of madness, all bets were off.

"I said, I bet I could take you." Rodney tensed, leaning forward. His eyes burned into John's.

It was time to move, to stop this half-insane game before it got out of hand. John knelt up easily, gracefully, and swung a leg over Rodney's hips, straddling him. He pressed Rodney's shoulders back into the cave wall--gently, no show of strength, no threat at all. Rodney's hands came up to squeeze restlessly at his biceps, and John slowly, slowly circled his wrists and pushed them back down to the floor. He smiled, careful to keep his teeth hidden, to avoid prolonged eye contact. No threat at all. "Yeah, Rodney, maybe you could. But you won't."

Rodney shuddered under him, rolling his hips. The motion pressed the hot length of his erection up into the underside of John's thigh, made John clench his teeth until they ached. The thick flare of heat in his belly wasn't what he wanted, not here. Not now. He wanted to stretch out over Rodney's body and rub himself over every inch of his damp, sweaty skin, to mouth the tendon in his neck and the soft underside of his chin. To feel Rodney's hot, calloused hands on his ass, the sweet slide of his tongue. But he was walking the high wire here, and one false step could send them both plummeting. What he wanted with Rodney, he wanted with Rodney in his right mind. Right now, he just needed damage control.

John pressed Rodney's hands lightly into the floor one last time, then slid down his body to lie between his legs. A few quick motions and Rodney's naked dick was in his hands, hot and tender in a way that made his throat hurt. He licked up the side, wet and sloppy, and heard Rodney hiss in a breath above him. Rodney's hands flexed in the dirt of the cave floor, and John pulled back one last time to gaze up at him, oh so easy and relaxed. "Remember, Rodney. You won't."

He slid back down, letting his mouth stretch over Rodney's dick, making no attempt at finesse at all. Rodney groaned and bucked up under him, breathing harshly already. His dick was blood-hot in John's mouth, and the taste of him was bitter and heady, sharp in the back of John's throat. His own dick throbbed.

"I could, you know," Rodney gasped out, hips pumping and twisting as he worked John's mouth. "I could roll you over right now and you couldn't stop me. I'm shot so full of fucking--fucking-- _Wraith juice_ my brain is burning out, but I could hold you down and let you struggle all you wanted, and you couldn't stop me." His voice broke on the last word, and his hands scrabbled in the dirt. He sounded harsh, high out of his mind and mean, and John wished desperately for this to be over even as he humped himself against the floor, ruthlessly turned on.

He settled for speeding up his rhythm, letting things get wet and messy, burying his nose in the damp, musky hair at the base of Rodney's dick and groaning. Above him, Rodney kept talking, words spilling dark and dirty into the air around them, shaping twisted scenes and acts that made John's stomach clench while Rodney's every word drove him higher. He wanted--he wanted-- _god_ , how he wanted. To feel Rodney's teeth on his neck, his rough hands on his thighs, the sharp burn of his dick in John's ass--oh _god_. When Rodney gave up and fisted one hot, heavy hand in his hair, John whined high in his throat, shoved his hips into the floor one last time, and came.

He rode it out gasping around Rodney's dick, sweating and moaning while Rodney pumped into him ruthlessly, nails digging into John's scalp. "I could make you," Rodney panted, voice as high and tight as his balls. "You have no idea what I could do to you--what I could--you wouldn't stop me-- _ahh_ \--" He broke off, body stiffening as his hips arched off the floor, driving his dick hard into John's throat as he came.

As soon as Rodney's body slumped back to the floor, John twisted out from under his grip, gagged, and spat violently on the floor. The taste of come was bitter and unfamiliar in his mouth; who knew how much active enzyme was still present in Rodney's semen. He spat again, then scrubbed his hands roughly over his face, dragging himself back together piece by piece. His mouth felt used and sore.

A harsh breath caught John's attention, loud in the sudden quiet. His ears, so recently full of the thunder of his own blood, felt odd, like they'd been stuffed with cotton. He turned warily toward the sound to find Rodney staring at him, his eyes wide and shocky. "Oh my god," Rodney said in a whisper, face contorting. "God, what did I do to you? I can't believe I--" He broke off, looking sick. " _John_. I could have--"

John moved then, pushing in where he'd wanted to be all along, draping himself over Rodney and wrapping his arms around him. "Yeah, Rodney, you could have. But you didn't."


End file.
